Bus Ride
by from-under-the-stingue-tree
Summary: When Rogue decided to attend university in New York City, he hadn't considered that he would need to take a thirteen-hour bus ride to get there. Modern Day/College AU. Fluffy Stingue One-Shot.
**Bus Ride**

 _Important Note: In this One-Shot, neither Sting nor Rogue have motion sickness to the same extent as they do canonly (I don't think that's a word but)_

When Rogue decided that he was going to go to university in New York, he didn't consider the thirteen-hour bus ride to get there. _You know, I don't really need a college education that badly. I'll just stay home,_ he thought bitterly as he waved goodbye to his parents and younger sister and climbed onto the bus.

The bus was ancient. Or, at least, it seemed like it. The vehicle smelled like old cigarette smoke and old people and insanely strong perfume and gross cologne and every other unpleasant smell you could think of. The blue-patterned fabric seats were covered in stains, and not even the disgusting designs on the cloth could hide them.

As he scanned the bus, he slowly realised that he didn't have very many options of where to sit. Most of the seats were taken. _Why are so many people on a fucking four a.m. bus from Chicago to New York?_ There were about three open seats: one next to a man who looked like he hadn't had a shower in three years, another by an elderly woman who looked like she could either be sweet or evil, and one more towards the back next to a blond guy who looked about Rogue's age.

The blond boy had earbuds in, and his music was turned up loud enough that from the aisle, Rogue could hear the beat. Seeming to realise the black-haired boy staring at him, the blond took out one earbud.

"Is that seat taken?"

He blinked a few times, looked at Rogue's backpack, and sighed. "Nope. It's free." He stood, allowing Rogue to slide past him to the window seat.

Rogue pulled out his own earbuds and turned on a playlist. As he adjusted the hood on his black hoodie to make a makeshift pillow, the guy took his seat again. Rogue considered introducing himself, but he figured he'd wait until later. He certainly didn't want to get into a conversation at four in the morning. This in mind, he dropped his over-packed bag behind his feet and closed his eyes.

When he woke a few hours later, he didn't see much but corn fields. The sun was staring at him, and the bright light burned his eyes – he was not the kind of person to do much outside; he was more of an internet person. According to his smartphone, it was about nine o'clock. The boy next to him was staring at the back of the seat in front of him, face blank.

Rogue studied his face and noticed that he was rather handsome. He had dark blue eyes and a scar running diagonally over the edge of his eyebrow above his right eye. Hanging from his left ear was a crystal-like charm. The boy's hair was unruly and went in every direction.

He wore pretty much the exact opposite as what Rogue wore – a white tank top, black athletic shorts, and sandals. He had to have been freezing, since the black-haired boy was cold in his black jeans, boots, and NYU hoodie.

The bus started slowing down as it pulled off of the highway. It drove into a truck stop, where the driver parked and announced that they would be back on the road in five minutes.

The boy stretched out his hands and cracked his neck. He then turned to Rogue and held out a hand. "I'm Sting."

Stunned, he paused and blinked. "Rogue," he said, awkwardly shaking the outstretched hand.

"Where are you headed?" Sting glanced at Rogue's sweatshirt. "NYU, I'm assuming?"

He blushed. "Uh, y-yeah. You?"

"That's actually where I'm headed as well."

"Nice," Rogue stiffly replied, staring blankly at his hands in his lap. _People really aren't my thing._

"What are you studying?" the blond inquired, yawning.

"Computer science."

"Nice. I'm majoring in mechanical engineering."

"That's cool," Rogue noted.

Sting seemed to notice how uncomfortable Rogue was, so he dug his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it. His wallpaper was a photo of him and a beautiful girl with short silver-blonde hair. Rogue tried to stop himself, but he could help but ask who she was.

A sad smile crept across Sting's face as he longingly looked at the picture. "She was my girlfriend."

A million thoughts ran through his head. _Oh. He's straight. Wait. If she's his ex, why is she his wallpaper?_ Still unable to refrain from blurting out his question, he said, "If I may, what do you mean was?"

The boy's face darkened, but he didn't look angry at Rogue for asking. "Yukino… she was killed in a car crash last year."

He suddenly regretted asking. _That was none of my business. Oh shit. Shit. Shit, shit, shit._ "I'm so –"

"Don't. It's okay. It's been more than a year. I'm over it."

Rogue's face was cherry red as he scanned the picture again, realising that it looked a bit old. Sting's features were a tad bit softer, and his eyes were brighter in the photo.

Not wanting to do anything even more stupid, Rogue stared at his lap, eyes glazing over. The bus started moving again a few minutes later.

It seemed like an eternity before either of them said anything. "So… uh… what kind of music do you like?"

Sting blinked a few times, apparently surprised by the question. "My music taste is pretty random, I guess. Most of the time, I prefer songs in the rock to alternative spectrum."

Rogue nodded in approval. "Pretty much the same with me. What are you listening to?"

"You wanna listen?" The blond offered an earbud, but quickly realised it was the wrong side, so he nervously switched and handed Rogue the left earbud.

The song playing happened to be Rogue's favourite song of the moment. The bass was deep, the drumbeat was irregular, and the lyrics were meaningful. It was an odd song, and it wasn't a typical Top-40 type song, which were really Rogue's two main priorities for music. The lead singer didn't scream, and his voice was interesting. It seemed like all music was the same these days, so finding good music was a rarity.

"What do you think?"

He considered telling him that he had heard it before, but he decided against it. "I really like it. It almost exactly fits my taste."

"I completely agree. To be honest, I haven't found a song this unique or interesting in a while."

Rogue nodded. The dark-haired boy debated whether to change the subject or to offer to show the blond a song. He decided on the former. "What do you do in your free time?" He felt odd – usually he wasn't this talkative with his closest friends, so talking to a stranger was such a foreign concept that Rogue didn't know where this was coming from. It seemed like Sting was just the kind of person who was easy to talk to – he just felt comfortable talking to him.

"Well, in high school I was on the football and basketball team, and I played trumpet in the band."

A smile spreading across his face, Rogue beamed, "You were in band? I was too. I play flute."

"Wow. I really wouldn't have pegged you for the band type. Was your band good?"

Rogue, suddenly more excited, bragged. "Yeah, we were great. We had more than three hundred people in the band. Our show last year was great; the theme was Shuffle, so the whole thing was a giant mashup of popular songs from the last like two decades. We actually won first place at a huge competition."

"Whoa. Our band isn't quite that good, but we had about one hundred and fifty people. Our show theme was Pulse, so all of the songs had something to do with heartbeats or beating. It was a huge hit with pretty much everyone."

"Was it hard being on the football team and in band?" he questioned.

The blond shrugged. "Not really. Our band it super accepting, and since our band is pretty popular in the town I'm from, being in band and on the team isn't really a big deal."

Rogue allowed a small smile to dance across his lips.

Hours passed, the two boys talking pretty much the whole time. They were about an hour outside of New York City.

Sting then asked a question that caught Rogue off-guard. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

Rogue blushed, heart pounding. "Uh, no, I don't. I don't really… uh… _like –"_

"Oh, I get it. That's cool. Then… do you have a boyfriend?"

"No… I didn't, uh, really have much time for a… um, relationship while I was in school, so…" His heart was pounding hard enough that he was certain Sting could hear it. If he didn't, then he certainly noticed the bright red dusting on his cheeks.

"That's a damn shame," Sting said, sneaking a glance at the black-haired teen.

"Oh, I… uh, no, I'm fine," he stammered. He tried to distract himself by pulling out a thick hardcover novel from his backpack.

"So now you're gonna ignore me because I think you're cute?" Sting laughed.

Rogue froze. "Uhhh… what?" _I had to have heard him wrong. There's no way someone would_ actually _say that to someone they just met… right? Oh, god._

Sting grinned, eyes shining. "When we get into the city, would you want to grab a coffee?"

Rogue really didn't want to accept the offer, but he couldn't very well deny an invitation from a hot guy to go get coffee. He could really use caffeine anyways. "Uh, sure… I guess."

The soon-to-be engineer smiled, turning to the front of the bus.

Soon enough, they reached the city. They both had things to do – classes started in three days and they had to move into their respective apartments, which just happened to be in the same building – but they were both looking forward to coffee. A small, local café was just down the street from the bus stop.

The boys laughed in the café for hours, taking small sips long after their drinks had gotten cold.


End file.
